


Derby Daze

by hanyou_elf



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Power Play, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyou_elf/pseuds/hanyou_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love him, and let him love you.  Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? ~James Baldwin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derby Daze

_Love him, and let him love you.  Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? ~James Baldwin_

You're constantly amazed at the things Jason can get you to do.  Not the least of which is giving up your vacation time to travel to the heartland, apparently for some horse racing.  And as well as you know Jason, you never assumed him to be into the gambling scene.  And certainly not with horses.  You don't know what you're going to do now, though.  It's two hours to Louisville International and Jason is quietly meditating beside you.  His eyes are closed, his head resting against his chair.  The only thing that even remotely indicates he's aware of your presence is his hand, clasped around yours- some sweet gesture that lets you know he cares.

"Why the Derby?" you finally ask, unable to keep it back.

"It's an excuse to just get away," Jason smiles.  His dark eyes flicker open and he turns his head to look at you contemplatively.  "Do you trust me?"

You frown at him.  "Of course," you answer.  You wouldn't let him do some of the things he's done to you if you didn't.  You wouldn't be in the middle of a flight to Kentucky, if you didn't trust him.

"Then I want you to do something for me," he smiles.  You shift in the seat to look at him better.  This man, your lover, is, for lack of a better word, conniving.  He's inventive and intelligent.  His mind works in mysterious ways.  And although you've gotten to know him pretty well over the past few years, there are still sides of the great Jason Gideon that you don't understand.  However, you know that the same holds true for Jason.  No matter how long he's known you, he doesn't know everything about you.  He doesn't know how much it means for you to even be in this relationship with him.

"What?"

"When we land, and get to the hotel, we'll talk about it," Jason smiles.  He lifts your hand and kisses it gently.  Ever the gentleman, even when you don't want him to be.

You roll your eyes and look away, watching farmland melt away thousands of feet beneath you.

-.-.-.-

"While we're here, I want you to wear this," Jason murmurs against your shoulder as he strokes your naked stomach. 

Sensual and slow, he's more of a tease than you'd ever thought possible.  But you relish it.  He pays attention to you like none other can.  Like none ever have before.  He knows you body so very intimately, in and out.  And he knows what it takes to make you scream his name.  What it takes to make you come undone in his arms.

While he speaks, he drapes a small, simple leather band across your neck.  You lift your hand, your fingers tease the band, testing it.  Seeking to understand what he's asking of you.  Your brow furrows in a silent question.

"Trust me," Jason whispers against your shoulder, kissing your collarbone with dry lips.  His stubble scratches against your skin.  You close your eyes as you nod.  You trust him, oh God, do you trust him.  But this... This is completely different from anything you've ever done with him.

"I trust you," you murmur as you slide your lips over his temple. 

"Wear it tomorrow for me."

-.-.-.-

You can't think of a really good reason why you shouldn't wear the collar.  After all, it's not like there's anyone who'll recognize you in the large Metro.  You can be whomever you want to be, as long as you're with Jason.  As long as you trust him.

And you do.  You trust him more than you trust anyone else in the world.  You'd give your life for him, and you know that he'd do the same.  You would give him everything.  You've come close before, and you know you'll give him this.  It's aesthetic.  It means little beyond what you give it.  And that you understand.  But you're not sure how it makes you feel.

You smile to yourself as you fasten the crimson leather around your neck.  Jason has good taste, it looks good against your skin.  A pretty contrast.  Jason approaches you, his visage contemplative in the mirror as he comes closer.

"That looks good," he whispers as his calloused hand travels over your stomach, stopping just below your heart.  Breathing is much more difficult.  His touches are just teasing enough to tantalize, but they aren't firm enough to satisfy.  You lean back, letting your naked back rest against his clothed chest.  Offering yourself to him.  Thick fingers trace the band's edges, sending gooseflesh on the march through your body.  Jason's thumb catches the small ring in the middle and pulls.  You arch your back, following the silent call. 

His lips drive a scorching path down your body and you moan softly as he kisses down your back.  His hand pulls lightly on the collar you're wearing before he lets it go.  Kneeling behind you.  You brace yourself on the vanity you'd been checking the collar in, but still aren't prepared for the moist tongue that travels over the top of your ass, teasing your crack.  Jason makes quick work of your pants, and you whine as his fingertips ghost over your erection. 

"Not yet," Jason promises.  "You're sexy."

You don't get a chance to respond before Jason's sliding his tongue into your body.  Unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome, you push back against the invading muscle and wrap your dark hand around your needy erection.  You won't need much preparation; Jason was thorough last night, and you probably won't last as long as you'd like this time around.  Hell, Jason probably won't either, which explains why he doesn't stop you from stroking yourself.

It isn't long before fingers are pushing into you with his tongue.  A delicious intrusion you can't seem to get enough of.  You groan as a long, thick finger caresses your prostate.  It is the most delicious thing you've ever felt, and it's not enough.  Your hands grip the sides of the vanity tightly, forgetting to stroke yourself completely.  You don't want to end it too quickly, without Jason buried deep within your body.  You want the mutual pleasure.

"Fuck me," you beg softly, teeth clenched in pleasure as you wait for him to make his move.  As you wait for him to take what belongs to him, to take what you've given him. 

A sigh of relief escapes you as he stands, his body pressed completely against you from shoulder to hip, his hot dick pressed against your lower back, rigid and insistent and desperately everything you want.  You lick your lips and rub back against him, staring challengingly at him in the mirror, watching his face play through every emotion. 

"Fuck me," you demand softly, arching your back against him.

Jason's lips press against your neck and he holds your hips with one hand and guides himself into your body with the other.  He grunts softly into your skin, his body rigid as you two are rejoined and pleasure shoots through your body.  You can't breath until he's stopped moving.  You inhale shakingly, shallowly as you tremble, trying to control yourself.

"You ready?" he asks.  His hands tighten around your hips, pulling you back against his hips completely, changing the depth of your penetration. 

Your choice of answer comes in the form of movement.  You move, letting his erection slip partially free before you thrust back against him, slamming him deep within you.  A deep groan escapes you before he picks up the pace, relentless and bruising.  But oh, oh how satisfying it is when you feel his body tensing.  His erection harder than before, your own body singing it's rapidly approaching climax.  You want, so badly you want to let go, but you aren't there yet.

Your body is slowly tightening up, preparing for the coming release, but it's not there yet.  You can't wait for him to touch you, to drag his calloused hand from your hip to your neglected erection.  To stroke you firmly, until you come undone in his hands.  You're putty for him, and he's your craftsman.

And there!  As your trembling threatens to break you apart, he wraps his hand around you and massages the velvety shaft of your rigid erection, refusing to touch the head.  If he did, you'd lose it, and it would be over.  He knows everything that you like, and his lips against your shoulder are delightful.  There is something beautiful in the way he touches you.  The way he worships you, the way he drags you through pleasure, and just simply _loves_ you.

His calloused hand drags over the head of your dick and your body jerks.  Orgasm sweeps through you in white hot pleasure and you fall forward in completion, groaning as he continues his thrusts into you, finding his own completion.  Heat floods you and it's uncomfortable and awkward, but it's Jason, and that's enough for you.

When he falls forward against you, pressing you into the vanity, you turn your head and press your lips to Jason's, losing yourself in the pleasure of your older lover.  This man who loves you.  This man you love.

-.-.-.-

It is the last night of the vacation.  You have no more time after tonight.  Tomorrow, you would be home.  Tomorrow you would be S.S.A Derek Morgan and he would be S.S.A. Jason Gideon.  You would be agents, called at any moment you're needed, and you'll have nothing to say about it.  You'll have no choice but to follow the call obediently, until you want to break, the way Elle did.

So tonight, you're going to give Jason something you won't be able to give him for a long time coming.  There is a sense of freedom here, away from everyone you work with.  All the stereotypes that they expect you to play up.  This is something you haven't done in a long time, something that you haven't let yourself enjoy in years.  Not since Buford discovered you had enjoyed it, and ruined your fun.

But this is Jason.  And Jason is completely different from everyone that you've ever been with.  And even though you're terrified, and your body is shaking because of the rush of emotions that you can barely control, you pull the skirt up your legs, letting the silken fabric rustle around your thighs.  You don't put underwear on- you don't need them.  You pull the knee highs up your calves, and can't help but remember how much fun this used to be when you played with Des and Sarah.  Before _he_ ruined it by making you wear dresses while he violated your unquestioning trust in him. 

Maybe, just maybe, with Jason, you can have it back.

This is an exercise in trust.  One that you need, and one that you know Jason needs, and likes.  There is no better time than now, when you two are alone and there's nobody else to judge.  And if Jason doesn't like the skirt on you, than you'll know you don't belong in the soft material, no matter how good it feels.

"Derek," Jason murmurs through the door.  "You okay?"

"Yeah, just changing," you answer him honestly.  If he can hear the tremble in your voice, he doesn't comment on it.  You're shaking with need, the warm lube deep in your body slipping just a little bit more. 

Satisfied with your preparation, you take a steadying breath, afraid of what'll happen when you walk out the bathroom door.  You swing the door open and with your best smile on your face, you turn to your lover.

"Derek?" he asks in stunned confusion.

You blink coyly, sliding your large hands down the front of the silken skirt.  You lick your lips and look up at him, a small smile playing on your face as you ask him, "Do you like it?"

You can't breath when he wraps his thick arms around you and pushes you back against the wall.  His lips crash against yours and he presses against you, hip to hip, chest to chest.  His hands caress your lower back and his hips rock against yours.

Your back arches and you throw your head back, whimpering softly at the feel of Jason pressed close to you.  Your hands slide down Jason's back, into the pants he's wearing.  "Jason,"  you pant desperately.  You rock against him, eager for some friction, for something against your hardened flesh.  The skirt is silky and it's more teasing than anything you can recall Jason ever doing to you before.

"Come sit down," he suggests, pulling you toward the small loveseat in the hotel's room.  It's an aesthetic, something to offer the guests so they didn't have only the bed to sit on comfortably.  Jason presses his lips to yours and his tongue slides into your mouth.  You arch into him, groaning as he breaks the kiss quickly.  It's over too soon and you follow his movements as he settles himself in the armchair.  Without invitation, you straddle him, rocking your naked crotch against him.  Jason's hands travel up your stocking clad calves and rest on your knees.  He smiles at you and  grabs your thighs as he encourages you to move.

His lips quirk upward and it's sinfully perfect as he murmurs softly, "I like this look on you."  He rocks his hips up into you, and you whine.  It's good, oh so good.  But you need more.  You _want_ more.  You guide one of his hands to your erection and gasp as he grasps you firmly.

"Take your pants off," you grumble against his neck.  You emphasize the order with a quick roll of your hips.  His erection is obvious, easier to feel with the lack of clothing you're wearing.  It's a different feeling, you've never done this kind of bold teasing.  But you love it.  Standing up, you cock your hip to the side and slide your fingertips over the smooth fabric, up your thighs, showing just enough skin to know that you're teasing him.

He watches you, his eyes narrowed intently as he hurries to unbutton his slacks and slide them down his legs.  He's not elegant, not by any stretch of the mind, but he's beautiful in his attention to you.  In his desire for you, and the way he inspires you.  He has always been careful and considerate.  Thoughtful and understanding, even if you don't divulge your secrets readily.  And when you approached him, your mind was attracted to him and encouraging your body along the way.  The first time you'd kissed him, you knew you were lost.

Your eyes follow the movement of his hands as they push his pants off of his legs before sliding his boxers down.  He is unashamed at the hardened flesh exposed beneath his t-shirt.  And that's fine with you, because you're going to be burying it deep within your body soon.  He is unashamed of his maleness, and that's good for you, because you appreciate him for his confidence.

Satisfied, you push him back into the chair and climb on top of him.  You brace your legs on either side of him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the base of his stiff, hardened flesh.  You clash your lips against his and use the kiss as a distraction as you sink down, letting the erection breach your body.  It's tight, and it's rough and the friction is delicious.  You thrust shallowly, easy movements to let him slide deeper into your body.  You want him buried to the hilt, but you aren't going to take him mercilessly.  Too reminiscent of past experiences. 

A calloused hand slides under your muscle shirt, playing with your hip and the muscles of your stomach.  He groans as you move lower.  And his hand slides up to the collar you're wearing, pulling on the leather as you move.  And that is perfect.  Rocking your hips, your back arches and your head falls back in pleasure as you finally get the hard flesh deep within you.  Resting in his lap, letting him support your body.  A thick finger slides under the leather band and curls, pulling you forward. 

And oh, God!  That's so good.  You whine and lift yourself just enough to move him teasingly within you.  His grunt is deep, lusty and vibrating against your chest.  He thrusts up into you, and just like that, your control is gone.  You move with him, letting his guiding hands- one on your hip, the other at your neck beneath the collar he asked you to wear- show you what he wants.  And really, as much pleasure as you're getting out this, you did it for him.

Your lips mesh with Jason's, and your movements are erratic as he strokes your body.  You wrap a hand around your own erection, stroking yourself firmly.  You want this to culminate quickly, you want the heated rush of pleasure that pours through you when he brings you to the edge and sends you over.  Silky fabric pools on your hand, following the swift strokes as you tease yourself.  Your breaths are Jason's breaths.  Your body plunges onto Jason's, taking the hardened flesh deeper and harder.  Your neck is caught in Jason's hand, the back of his hand hot against your pulse.  You tremble and Jason supports you.

"I love you," Jason pants against your lips.  The hand on your hips laces with yours and the grip is tighter, closer to heaven than you can stand and with his voice, chanting over and over into your ear that he loves you, you feel the heat flooding your body.  Your toes curl, and back arches.  Orgasm is ripped from your body with a final thrust and firm stroke.  You bow your back and pant as he continues moving.  His body is taut and it won't be long.  Tightening your body, you grunt in something closer to pain than you remember as his hard flesh grinds through your tight muscles.  He kisses your neck and groans into your shoulder as he comes, filling your body with hot semen, something you'll never get used to.

As he pulls you tight, letting your bodies relax from the overwhelming pleasure, he kisses your shoulder, and in a voice that's hoarse, lusty and deep, he asks: "A skirt, Derek?"

You laugh, a breathy sound that's almost panicked.  "A skirt."

"I wouldn't mind seeing it again," he groans as you shift in his lap.  You smile and kiss him deeply, relieved.

He smiles at you, and it's nice to be able to see him just relax like this.  Jason is relaxing, and you relax around him at the same time.  You love this man.  This beautiful man who has given you peace, safety and excitement. 

You didn't know when you joined the BAU that you would become so intimately involved with Jason.  You'd never imagined it.  Garcia is more your proclaimed tastes, but you never imagined that Jason would be the one to step up and save you.  You never imagined that you would be the one to instigate a sexual relationship with this man.  It's fascinating to you how a man like Jason can make you feel so comfortable.  Especially with the previous experience you had with men older than yourself.  Jason's always been an exception when it comes to your understanding of who he is.  It's like he exists outside of your defined roles and understandings.

"Then I guess I'll take it home," you answer, collapsing against him in relief.  



End file.
